


Bed Side Manner

by Bodysnatcherr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 20:10:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17608109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bodysnatcherr/pseuds/Bodysnatcherr
Summary: Life wasn't always what Cas expected, especially when he made a faulty deal.





	Bed Side Manner

"Dean, stop. This is not productive in the slightest." Castiel's voice echoed heavy through out the kitchen, damp trench coat leaking soot colored water onto the floor.

A loud and uncalloused laugh emitted from Dean's lungs, "Productive?! Not productive? You've got to be shitting me, Cas." Dean was fuming, ping ponging around the kitchen, fingers brushing over surfaces that he either itched to clean or demolish, "You can't keep making all these bullshit deals with bullshit demons!"

Cas' demeaner didn't falter, his face unchanging as he let out a sigh, "I just wanted to protect you." He spoke with such a hushed tone Dean almost didn't catch it.

In their ten years of knowing one another there was one thing Dean absolutely couldn't stand about the angel. It was his best and worst quality. The lengths he would go to save the people he loved. And while Dean knows he always does such stupid, yet brave and honorable deals, it doesn't change the fact that he's always terrified that Cas will make a botched deal one day and be gone. 

"What was it for, Cas?"

The angel broke eye contact, gaze falling to the floor. While Cas isn't human and doesn't experience emotion like Dean, he could swear he felt shame in this moment. Could recognize what it felt like. And it felt like someone had skewered his heart into his stomach and left it there to rot.

"Dean." Cas hesitated.

In four long purposeful strides, Dean was standing directly in front of Cas, eyes locking into Cas' when he finally looked up, "What was the deal for, Castiel?"

"It doesn't put you, Sam or Jack in harms way. That's all that should matter." Explained Cas, tips of his fingers scratching at the hem on his coat. Mind racing to try and find a way out of this. Castiel was an angel of the Lord and while he knew he didn't have to stand here and be yelled at by a mere human, he knew he respected Dean enough to allow it.

"Cas, I swear to fucking God." At this point Dean was shaking, fists clenched by his sides, head pounding with pent up aggression, throat thick with frustration.

Cas was trying to look every where other than directly into Dean's eyes. It would break him. He knows it would. Castiel couldn't stand there, and lie to Dean. He just couldn't. So, he didn't. "She told me that she'll come to collect me one day and bring me back to the Empty. She said that when I allow myself..."He stopped, feeling exposed and dumb for his decision, he shook it off, "That when I allow myself happiness, that's when she'll come. When I'm finally truly happy, that's when she takes me."

Silence hung in the kitchen, the atmosphere thick, but neither of them dared to cut it. All Dean could manage to do was breathe. In through his nose, out through his mouth. His stomach on fire and skin burning hot. 

Neither of them knew how long they had been standing there before Dean finally spoke, his chest heaving from his shallow breathes, "You have to leave, Cas."

If Castiel had a heart beat, he would of felt it stop at that precise moment, "What?"

"You have to leave. You can't be here anymore." Dean continued, voice steady and sure. "I won't watch them take you, Cas. Not again. And if you surviving means you can't be around here anymore, then that's what you need to do."

"Dean, no." Interjected Cas, eyes searching for something, anything in Dean's that would tell him he wasn't being serious, that he didn't want Cas gone.

"Be out by tomorrow. You can take whatever you want." Dead panned Dean, eyes shining in the dim light of the kitchen.

Mouth sputtering open and shut like a fish out of water, Castiel's brows furrowed, "But you-I saved you."

Seeminly ignoring Cas' statement, Dean repeated, "Be out by tomorrow," and headed straight for the garage.

It didn't take Castiel long to gather his belongings. He practically had zilch in the clothing department and nothing of any real value to him. With a small bag full of knick knacks and his angel blade, Cas took a slow walk through the bunker to engrave the surroundings into his memory. 

Unblinking eyes scanning over all the books, guns and coffee mugs littered about. Beer bottles left uncollected on the edge of the table. Etchings of initials partially hidden by scattered papers and Castiel gave a small sigh as he straightened the papers up to run his fingertips over the grooves. He felt a pang in his chest as he delicately traced the curve of the C in the table top, the W that followed caused his eyes to squeeze shut and rip his hand away from the wood. 

Quick deliberate footsteps echoed through the silent bunker as Cas made his way to the garage. Cas clambered into his Lincoln, throwing his bag into the passenger seat he noticed it was cleaned of all the debris in the floorboards. Wind shield obviously freshly windexed and gas gauge on full. The smile that crossed his face was short lived as he remembered the man who did this was also the man who was sending him away. 

As the engine stirred to life with a twist of his key, he rummaged through his pocket for the cassette mix Dean had made for him. It being the last possession he grabbed before leaving. Popping the plastic into the cassette deck, Cas put the car in gear, Led Zeppelin filtering out of the old speakers as he took one last look in his rear view mirror and set off to somewhere he wasn't sure of just yet. 

By the time Castiel pulled his car into a rest stop the sun had began to set. Hues of reds and purple smoking over the horizon, the only sound was the cars engine, cassette long over, drums and guitars fading out miles back. 

Ten years with the Winchesters had constantly given Cas a purpose and without them he was lost. He wasn't sure what he needed to do or where he should be going. And if he was being honest with himself the only place he wanted to be was back at the bunker. 

Cas was itching to put the car in reverse and speed straight back to the bunker and scream at Dean that he'd rather die than not be a part of his family anymore. Yet Cas knew that was not an option. He needed to respect Dean's wishes no matter the cost. 

_____

It started nine days in. Nine days and Cas heard Dean's voice in his head. As he walked through a public park in some small town in Indiana, wind rustling leaves around the walk way. The sound of a dog barking at a scampering squirrel couldn't drown out the small, 'Cas, I'm sorry.' That wormed it's way through the waves of his angel radio. 

Every day Dean would say short prayers to Castiel and Cas would relish in them. Feeling as if he wasn't being forgotten was a relief. And while he felt relief, his heart still weighed heavy. 

______

Day 98 and Cas was sat alone in a diner, uneaten pie sat in front of him. Classic apple pie, Dean's favorite. 

'Cas, I-I hope you're doing well. I hope you're safe.'

He left a ten on the table, napkin blanketed over the untouched slice. 

_______

Settling down wasn't something that Cas ever thought was possible for him. Yet there he was, working night shift at a local bar, dog waiting for him back at his small apartment that he somehow managed to rent with no credit. 

"Winchester, finish mopping up the floor and you can head out!" The bar owner called out from behind the counter. 

'Cas, I miss you.' 

He almost dropped the bucket of water he was carrying. Soap suds splashing onto his shoes, "Will do." Cas mumbled back, heart pounding in his chest. 

Dean hadn't prayed in a week. Cas had missed his voice.  
_______

'Cas, it's been quiet around here. Nothing out of the usual except Sam finally got his own car. I think he's having a mid life crisis.' Cas smiled at the small chuckle he could hear come from Dean, followed by a low sigh, 'I really wish these conversations weren't one sided. I wish you were around to watch shitty sci-fi movies with again.'

Cas had the same wishes.  
_______

'Cas. It's been seven years since I made you leave...I ran you off...and now Sam is gone. He found himself a really nice girl. They got married a couple days ago. He wanted to invite you to the wedding...I never told him why you left. I'm sorry, Cas. '

The candle lit on Cas' bed side flickered as he shut his eyes on the book he was reading. 

_______

Year after year Cas had to up and move from whatever town he had decided to settle into. While his vessel never aged, his friends and coworkers did. He didn't want to ever have anyone question him on why his features never changed, never aged, never wrinkled. The truth would be far too complicated and unbelievable. 

Moving the last of his clothing into his new apartment, he heaved a sigh as he plopped down onto his old leather couch he bought all those years ago in his first apartment twenty towns ago. 

A faint voice filtered through his head, a voice he hadn't heard in twenty-five years, 'Castiel, I hope you can hear this. Look, Dean's sick. He's-Dean's not doing good. I don't know what happened all those years ago, but I know he wants to see you, but won't say anything. He's staying at our house with us. Just-just come by, Cas. We both miss you.' The younger Winchester spoke, his voice sounding exactly as Cas remembered. 

_______

The man that answered the oak door to the two story house was a man Cas recognized, long brown hair peppered with grey, wide shoulders hidden by a worn flannel, "Cas." The taller man smiled, "It's so good to see you." He smiled, arms outstretched as Cas was pulled into a tight hug. 

"It's really good to see you too, Sam." Cas returned, the forgotten scent of Sam filling his nostrils, "Can I see him? I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. I've waited 9137 days to see him." He rambled as he pulled out of Sam's embrace. 

Sam gave a small nod of understanding, "Of course."

Standing outside the door of the room Sam had lead him to, Cas was nervous. Throat dry as he reached a hand toward the knob, muscles shaking as the lock popped open. 

Taking a timid step into the room, he shut the door behind himself. Trying his best to be quiet, seeing as the man laying in bed was fast asleep. Soft snores escaping his mouth. 

While Cas could still recognize it was Dean, some changes had occurred. Deep lines had set around his face, facial hair marked with harsh patches of grey, the full hair he had once had was thinned out, but his freckles were still as present as ever. 

After twenty five years Dean was still the most beautiful creation Castiel had ever witnessed. Twenty five years and here Castiel was still fawning over a man who left him without a family or home. A man who he loved so deeply he'd do anything for, even if that meant being miserable for decades. 

As gently as he could manage, Cas sat down on the side of the bed, soft mattress contouring to his shape, "Dean." His voice croaked, rough and uncertain. 

The man next to him stirred, legs shuffling under the mounds of blankets piled on top of him. A small groan sounded through the room, "I told you earlier I wasn't hungry, Sammy. My meds aren't making me sick. I'm okay." Dean grumbled, and as his eyes adjusted to the light filtering in through the window he almost swallowed his own tongue, "Cas?" 

"Hello, Dean." Cas smiled, fingers itching to pull him into his chest. Head spinning with all the things he wished to tell him.

Dean's face was hard to read, it was a mixture of so many emotions and Cas had never gotten any better at reading ques or picking up on feelings. 

"You're here. How?" Dean quizzed, struggling to sit up in the bed as the blankets had him trapped. 

Cas gave him a small shrug, "Sam. He told me- he told me you're not doing too well."

"Fuck, Cas. I missed you." The words were tumbling out of Dean's mouth before he could even think. 

"What's wrong with you?" Spoke Cas, ignoring Dean's admission. 

With a roll of his eyes, Dean sighed, bare shoulders peaking out from where some of the blanket had fallen off him, "Liver cancer. I literally drank myself to death, ironic, huh?"

"Why did you never tell me in any of your prayers? Why would you keep this from me?" The worry in Cas' voice far outweighed the irritation. 

"You heard my prayers? All of them?" Cas could read this emotion, Dean was embarrassed. 

"Yes. I would wait every day to hear you." He answered as his hand found his way to Dean's shoulder, the imprint his hand had left still very visible on frail skin, "It was like you were still with me. Like I was still part of the family."

Dean huffed a laugh, "Cas, you've always been family. No matter where you were, you're family."

A genuine smile flashed across Cas' face, quickly replaced by a somber frown, an emotion he had come to master. 

A silence fell over the two, Castiel's hand unmoving from Dean's skin. 

"So, you know I love you..."Dean trailed off, eyes firmly fixed on a crease in the sheets, "I never wanted to have to tell you, but I figured you couldn't hear me anyway and I just needed to say it out loud once, y'know."

Castiel could feel his skin heat up, could feel his cheeks turning red, could feel how this feeling could cause people such joy and such hurt if it was ever lost. 

A small clearing of his throat and Dean's eyes snapped up to meet Castiel's, blue eyes as bright as ever as he leaned closer to Dean. His hand falling to find Dean's that was hidden under the covers, "I know, Dean. I've loved you since the moment I found you in hell. The moment I touched your soul, I was smitten."

In the flash of a moment, Dean was pulling him close, lips forcefully finding their way to Castiel's. Worn fingers scrambling at Cas' hair, rubbing just above his ear as he fell further into the kiss. A soft sigh of admiration making it's way from Dean's mouth into Cas' own. 

"I'll always love you, Dean. No matter where I am. Do not forget that." Cas whispered against his lips, eyes counting as many freckles littering Dean's cheeks as he could. 

He managed to tally thirteen before he saw black.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for this being super sad. 
> 
> Xo s.


End file.
